


Dissolved Boy

by MorganMacCallum



Series: Dissolved World [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reverse Falls, F/M, Reverse Bill Cipher, Reverse Pines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-06-22 22:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15591975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorganMacCallum/pseuds/MorganMacCallum
Summary: When Gideon Pines first visits Gravity Falls he suspects that the paranoia comes from his eccentric cousin's tales of terror, but as more people disappear from the sleepy town, and less people remember, he cannot help but suspect all is not as it should be with the town or the Gleeful family





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this first chapter of my Reverse Falls series.

When Gideon first heard that he would be staying with his father his response was excitement not for the fact that he would be staying with his father but for the fact that he would finally be moving out of Locust Grove and into an entirely different state: one that was more forgiving on his naturally pale skin.

His second response was that of boredom as the plane journey continued on, joined soon after by an hour long bus journey to a town that was neither big nor small, and not much different from his own home in the sense that it was a dull little town with dull little people and a father that, when he was there, was either awkward or rude.

The first three days were by far the dullest, and he spent most of his time the way he did at home: exploring. There were multiple nooks and crannies in the shack that were easy to get lost in and for the first couple of hours they managed to entertain him, although not nearly as much as the bizarre attractions that littered the lower floor.

His father owned a place called ‘The Mystery Shack’; a tourist trap for the strange number of people that decided Gravity Falls was a place worth visiting for its supposed beautiful waterfalls and history, neither of which Gideon could see from the shack or his bedroom window. All he could see on all sides was pine trees that stretched out like an ocean before him.

“I’m going into town for a while. Don’t cause trouble.” His father interrupted their usual awkward silence, picking at his meal with a frown on his face. “Your cousin will show you around. You need money.”

“Right, yeah…” It was just another thing he had to accept. It was better than being cooped up in the house.

 

That Saturday, as he waited for his cousin, he wandered into the forest. A leisurely stroll was what was intended, but after a while he found himself going deeper and deeper still into the forest, the pine trees looming over him like jagged knives against a pale blue sky.

At first, he stayed close to the path, but eventually he began to drift towards the edges, creeping steadily closer towards the darker patches of the woods. It was not something he was often compelled to do, and Gideon considered himself to be a particularly sensible individual, but the temptation was stronger than usual, and he found that he simply could not resist the desire to-

“You’ll die if you go in there.”

That Saturday he met a strange girl with strange glasses and unruly blonde hair. He did not know how she managed to sneak up on him, but she was holding a book in her hands and stood exactly one meter away from him. He screamed, of course, and flailed his arms, but the urge to go into the forest had vanished instantly.

“W-who the hell are you?” The strange girl lifted her glasses with the pink and blue lenses and set them on her forehead, and simply stared at him. “Well!”

“I’m Pacifica Southeast.” She leaned in close, as if ready to whisper a secret. He took several steps back. “I’m the local crazy.” She confirmed her sentence with a nod: “Yes, very crazy, but not as crazy as you.”

Upon the girl was a hideous neon green sweater lined with black cats over a pair of hot pink leggings that glittered in the sunlight. One sock was exposed and a distinct purple in colour, beaten down yellow sandals completely the ugliest outfit that Gideon had ever seen.

“You’re judging me, I can tell. Boo… hoo…” She then takes several steps back and bows. “I’m Pacifica Southeast.”

“You already said that.” The girl seemed surprised at the statement, scratching at her head and staring up at the sky.

“I did? Did I say we were cousins?” That part did come as a surprise to Gideon, so much so that his first response was that of doubt. “I guess your pa never did mention it. I’m not surprised. I’m not popular here.”

“C-cousin or not what are you doing here?”

“Oh, I’m here to show you around town. I don’t think that’s happened yet, unless it has… has it?” The girl came across as vague, off in another world. Gideon was more concerned about her safety than his at this point, she would probably walk right off a cliff and never notice. _He was related to this girl?_

“Alright, show me around.”

 

Pacifica, he noted, was exceptionally bizarre. She always walked with her head tilted to the left and arms spread out which kept those few that got close to her at bay. People avoided her, whispering about ‘Crazy Pac’ and pitying poor Gideon who was stuck with her.

Despite this, her tour was surprisingly informative.

“That’s lazy Susan’s diner. Don’t tell anyone but if you offer to buy her a coffee she’ll give you cake for free… she’s not very smart.” She nodded, as if confirming this to herself before dropping into the seat opposite him, staring up at a usual brown stain on the ceiling.

Knowing that she would no longer be talking to him in that moment, he waved over a waitress to order his lunch. The waitress did not acknowledge Pacifica, instead going on her merry way without asking for her order.

The silence went on for several moments. He started to tug at his hair before picking at scratches on his arm and yet Pacifica did not move from her catatonic position, head still angled up at the ceiling.

“So, uh… I saw a tent earlier on. Is there a festival goi-,”

“No.” Her voice was sharp, a knife slicing through the tension. The string snapped, and she was staring at him once more, eyes dark underneath her colourful lenses.

“No?”

“There is no festival. That is the Tent of Telepathy. The Gleeful family own it.”

“Great, we should check that out next.” She did not say anything for the longest time. The waitress set the food on Gideon’s side of the table, and he thanked her. He pulled the pancakes closer to him. They were greasy and tastes strongly of sunflower oil. They left an unpleasant film in his mouth that stuck to his teeth.

“We are to never go the Tent of Telepathy.” She leaned forward in her seat, lifting her glasses to stare at him directly. “Under any circumstances.” She then stole one of his pancakes, rolled it up, and swallowed it whole.

 

Despite Pacifica’s warning, Gideon could not help but be curious about the Gleeful Family’s Tent of Telepathy. At first it was an itch, but soon he found himself standing at the very edges of the big tent holding candy floss in one hand and a ticket in the other. He remembered buying both but could not connect the actions to himself.

He considered turning away, but it was not as though he needed Pacifica’s approval to do what he wanted. He took a seat near the back, watching at the space began to flood with people all too loud for his personal comfort.

The chattering continued until-

SNAP

Silence followed.

The spotlights were uncomfortably bright as they shone on the pale skin of a boy and girl who emerged from behind the blue velvet curtain.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to today’s performance!” The boy shouted.

“I see a lot of new faces out there!” The girl announced, glancing over the crowd. Gideon sunk into his chair.

“As well as some familiar ones so we’re not going to yammer on too long.”

“We want you to sit back, enjoy the service, the scenery, but most of all enjoy the show.”

The boy snapped his fingers at the stage curtains pulled back. A girl with beautiful red hair sat on a chair in the middle of the stage. The boy waved a hand above her, then around her.

“As you can see there are no strings around her.” The girl then proceeded to copy him albeit with a more ridiculous enthusiasm about her. More flailing than testing. “Now, Wendy, spread your arms nice and wide for us.”

Wendy did as he said, staring vacantly ahead of them at no one in particular. She neither smiled nor responded in any other way. There was not so much as a twitch out of place.

“Now, Wendy, fly.” Gideon watched as Wendy slowly lifted from the chair, her legs dangling limply underneath her as she slowly rose upwards until she was at least twenty feet in the air. “Let’s give them a show, Wendy.”

Wendy began to sore through the air, dipping and diving like an eagle in pursuit, her body twisting until finally she returned standing on the chair, still with an entirely disinterested expression on her face.

“Bow to the crowd, Wendy.” Wendy bowed at an unusual angle, locked in place. “Thank you, Wendy, now off to the backstage with you.” He said it with a cheerful smile, but Gideon heard the command in his voice, clapping with the crowd. He was amazed with what he saw and yet…

‘Something is off here.’ He wanted to talk to Wendy after this.

“Now we need a volunteer from the crowd.” Gideon did not volunteer.

 

When the show ended Gideon attempted to look for Wendy in the crowd, but no red-headed teenagers came into view. He wondered if she were still backstage with that same blank look on her face.

It was becoming dark and the streetlights did little to calm his nerves, shadows stretching ominously over the paved road, the buttery yellow lights only serving as a false security as the evening sun disappeared over the horizon.

He did not want to be here.

“Are you lost?” He jumped, yelping at the unfamiliar voice. Directly behind him was the performing girl, brown hair rolling over her shoulders as she leaned down to speak to him.

“I-I was just looking for my cousin is all.”

“Ooooo a family get-together?”

“Y-yeah I’m staying at Gravity Falls for a while with family.” Her vibrant blue eyes seemed to gleam at this, something that was profoundly unsettling for Gideon. “Well I better go find her!”

“I’ll join you, I’d hate for you to get lost on a day like this.”

“Day like this?”

“Oh, you know… dark and menacing.” She answered with a giggle, a giggle that was forced and altogether too sickly sweet.

“That will not be necessary, Miss Gleeful.” He jumped once again, already on edge in the presence of the girl. However, he knew the voice right away, burying the urge to sigh in relief as Pacifica stepped into the streetlight, a yellow beacon of safety for him.

Mabel was not happy to see her.

“Ugh, you’re related to Pacifica? God, I feel sorry for you.” The sweet act dropped immediately, disgust on her face as Pacifica strolled forward, pulling Gideon away from Mabel’s hands (when did that happen) and into her own security net.

“I will be taking my cousin home.”

“I hope not off a cliff this time.” She then beamed at Gideon. “Well, if you ever need someone _sane_ to talk to I’m around.”

“I-I’ll keep it in mind.” She waved him goodbye, and as they walked away her shadow stretched over him. He did not look back and did not say anything until they reached the shack.

By the time they reached the shack night had completely taken over Gravity Falls, and no stars shone in the sky. The shack was dark, and he would be alone that night. Thankfully he had not told Mabel where he had lived.

“A warning… had I not been there tonight you would have disappeared like the others.”

“The others?” People had disappeared in the town? But there were no missing signs, or extra police in the area. In fact, he had only seen two police officers the entire day. People had been disappearing? “For how long?”

Pacifica only smiled up at him, then began to turn away.

“Lock up, Gideon, and welcome to Gravity Falls.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon gets a message.

Gideon did not sleep well that night, Pacifica’s words ringing in his ears as midnight turned to six in the morning, armed only with his lamp and a blanket wrapped around his person. The slightest noise made him jump, every creak of the house a mockery of kidnappers out to pluck him away from this land never to be seen again.

When morning came and nothing happened he finally relaxed enough to take a shower and change into a new pair of clothes, his previous set thoroughly sweated through and abandoned on the floor along with his suitcase and miscellaneous books, some of which should have been hidden under his bed and out of sight.

When he came downstairs to the sounds of someone working in the kitchen and assumed that his father had returned, but when he reached the bottom of the stairs he saw none other than Pacifica playing by the oven in a dark purple knee length dress and yellow sandals: tame compared to the day before, although the neon pink gloves soon broke the illusion of normalcy.

“How the hell did you get in?”

“Front door.”

“The door was locked.” Around her neck was a cord and that looped around a key. He suspected his father had given her the key to get in. Slumping down in the chair, he rubbed his eyes exhausted from the night before. He knew it was improper not to welcome a guest around the house, but Pacifica had guided herself in and fully intended to stay there based upon how she had set up the plates.

She piled eggs and bacon on his plate, followed by beans and cooked tomato before setting up her own plate and sitting opposite him. She did not speak, initially, or show any interest in communicating with him, trying to balance the knife on her fork.

“About last night. Was that a prank, because if so-,”

“Have you noticed the people on stage?” She cut in before he could even attempt to sound angry.

“W-what?”

“The people on stage. Have you noticed something strange about them?” He clamped his mouth shut, drawing a finger to his chin. Of course he remembered how strange the red-headed woman had been during the performance. It were as though she had been drugged throughout the entire process, or turned into a puppet.

There was the same glazed over expression on people that volunteered. As though they had been pulled into a spell they could not escape from, but they were smiling and acting like everyone else. It was only Wendy that had acted truly unusual.

“Yeah… they were totally out of it. More than you.”

“And what about the twins?”

“They’re twins?” She nodded.

“Mason and Mabel Gleeful, the main performers at the Tent of Telepathy. They’ve been there since they were nine. We used to go to the same class…” She drifted off for a moment, before blinking back into reality. “Mabel terrified you last night, didn’t she?”

“I-I mean she caught me off guard. I didn’t hear her sneak up on me or anything.” He would not say it out loud, but there was something so profoundly wrong with Mabel that it took all of his willpower to not run the moment that she spoke to him. Pacifica was right: she had terrified him.

“It’s okay they scare me too.” With a mock pat on the shoulder, or what felt like mockery, Gideon was drawn back into his frustration.

“What the hell was that warning about last night anyway? People are disappearing? How come there aren’t any police around? How come nobody is talking about it?”

“I can show you.”

 

Pacifica did not say another word as they finished dinner, and remained silent as they drifted into town. She appeared to have no place in particular she wanted to go until she turned left suddenly and followed a hulking mass of a man with bright red hair that almost looked to be on fire.

“What do you want brat?” His voice was menacing and booming, Gideon taking an unconscious step back to avoid whatever rage he may fall into. Pacifica was entirely unfazed by the man.

“I just wanted to say your daughter Wendy’s performance last night was truly amazing. I had no idea she could fly…” She said it with a dreamy tone to her voice, her voice bouncing up and down like a song. It was strange to listen to.

“Kid I do not have a daughter.”

“Sure you do, here’s a picture of her.” She pulled out what Gideon recognised as a family picture and showed it to the man. The man stared for several moments, face blank.

“That’s We…” He stopped speaking, blinked and then stood up straight again. “What do you want brat?”

It were as though he had completely forgotten what he had seen.

“Do you have a daughter called Wendy?”

“No. I have only sons.”

“Make sure to clean the buzzing bitters out of your ears.”

“Get out of here.” He pushed her aside as he marched into the shop. “Weirdo.”

Pacifica tucked the photograph back into her dress pocket, before she turned to smile at Gideon.

“Strange, isn’t it?” Strange was only the tip of the iceberg. He had seen genuine recognition in the man’s eyes for a moment.

“May I see the photo?” Sure enough, she took it out again. He looked over the image itself, before turning it back around, trying to find any evidence of tampering as he picked at the surface. It seemed to be the real deal which only made the man’s response all the more confusing. Surely it was just a prank they had worked on together? “Do you have others?”

“Yes, of course.”

 

“Have you noticed how this town only has two police officers? What happened to the rest?” Gideon asked as they passed by the police station. Pacifica paused mid-step, before kicking her foot into the air and spinning around to face him.

“They disappeared because they asked too many questions.” It did not stop her from asking questions of her own, it seemed. She strolled into the police station as though she owned it and Gideon followed soon after, already panting by the time he reached the top of the steps. She had waited by the automatic doors for him, jumping inside and out until he passed her by.

A man with a long fat head sat by the reception desk playing with the desk fan instead of doing the paperwork that sat by his right side, pen frozen in place and signature incomplete. The man only responded when Pacifica began to sing.

“Well if it isn’t Crazy Paci, here to raid the records again?”

“Mmm, tell Gideon about the recent tourist disappearances.” At this, the man stopped playing with his fan, leaving it spinning. Some of the paperwork fell from the top of the pile as the wind brushed it by.

“Look, Miss Southeast, how many times do we have to keep telling you this these imaginary people are not a part of our job. Go home and rest.” His voice seemed to suggest that she frequently came to the police station to complain about missing people.

“What about the mayor’s daughter.”

“The mayor doesn’t _have_ a daughter, Miss Southeast.”

“Sure he does, I have a picture of her here with her father.” She proceeded to take a photograph out of her other dress pocket and handed it to him.

Gideon noticed the flicker of understanding and bristled when the man tore the picture up. He did it with such aggression that Gideon wondered whether it was annoyance or genuine dislike for Pacifica that triggered it.

“That’s enough, now go _home_.”

“Thank you for your hard work, officer.” Pacifica left before he did. He was about to follow after her when the man gestured for him to come back. It was with great reluctance that he did so.

“Take my advice, boy, and ignore whatever she tells you. She’s not been right in the head since she was thirteen.” There was a warning to his voice: stop investigating or you’ll get hurt. He understood the hidden meaning and nodded his response.

The man grinned and returned to playing with his fan. Gideon stayed close to Pacifica until they returned to the shack.

 

Gideon could not even pretend that what he had seen was not strange. The behaviour of the officer in itself was not strange, but it was the way he spoke and the way he lost his temper that worried Gideon.

‘You’re overthinking this Pacifica’s probably just really annoying.’ He could understand that as an excuse, and yet he sat and pondered, staring aimlessly at the pancakes before him. They were as terrible and greasy as they had been the day before, but it was all the café sold, or at least the least greasy of the foods offered.

Wendy was the volunteer last night, and the person that was _not_ that man’s daughter and yet observed as a part of the family picture. It could have been photoshopped, and yet a naïve part of him wondered why Pacifica would feed such paranoid thoughts into his mind.

‘Because she’s clearly crazy.’

“Fancy meeting you here.” The voice sent chills down his spine, the sickly-sweet tones of Mabel pulling him out of the discomfort of his mind into the discomfort of the café.

She sat opposite him, head in her hands watching his every move with glittering blue eyes.

“O-oh, Mabel, hello. How are you today?”

“Oh, I am just delighted to be here! I knew I did not recognise you and simply had to investigate, and you’re Bud’s son? That must be a lot of hard work he can be so rough.”

As far as Gideon knew, nobody knew where he had been staying or of his relationship to Bud. He tried not to feel nervous, dismissing it as either Pacifica or his father speaking to the community.

“Oh yeah he acts like he’s a gentleman in public, but he can be straight up rude sometimes.”

“That must be so difficult to live with, especially in such an insecure place like the shack.”

“I-insecure?” Mabel blinked once, slowly, then smiled.

“Being in the middle of the forest and so forth. Crazy Pac says that its haunted, and locals have heard screaming in there, but I just think it’s the foxes.” She beamed, but Gideon did not feel any better. “Anyway, I was just here to say that if Pacifica says anything mean about me it’s just a rivalry between the two of us, don’t take any of it to heart.”

“R-right. Of course.” With that, she gleamed and stood up.

“Oh, and feel free to visit me after hours.” She winked and turned away from him. “The door is always open to you.”

 

Gideon went to the shack alone early that afternoon intending to catch up on his reading.

The front door was unlocked. He swore he had locked it, and Mabel’s words rang in his ears. An insecure place in the middle of the forest. Anything could happen. Carefully, he opened the door, grabbing an umbrella from the nearby clothes hanger.

The lower floor was clear. Nobody lurked in any of cupboards or hid behind any doors, although someone had cleaned the plates and his laundry was missing.

Upstairs he went, each stair creaking underneath his weight. He winced at the sounds but continued up to his father’s bedroom. It was completely clear. He checked under the bed and in the closet, but no one was there and nothing had been disturbed.

At the end of the hallway was his own room. He hesitated, lingering at the doorway. Something felt wrong, and he could not help the way his heart clenched. As though an icy cold hand had reached out and grabbed it, squeezing the blood out of it and into his throat which burned with his fear.

He slammed the door open.

Nobody was there. He checked his wardrobe. One of his hangers was empty and his books had been tucked into a corner, but no one was there. He checked under the bed. The magazines had been stacked on top of each other and set near the chest of drawers.

There was a strange lump under his bed. He held the quilt in his hands and, after a few moments, ripped the covers away.

The keys to his house sat there. He knew that they were hid because of the lion keychain.

There was little doubt about it.

He was being threatened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon decides to do some investigating of his own.

Pacifica arrived as she had the day before; through her own set of keys with complete disregard as to whether he was sleeping or not. Which he had not done. He could not sleep knowing that it was so easy to break into his home and with a threat looming over his shoulders. He did not even know what he had done wrong, only that he had the misfortune of being related to Pacifica who he immediately blamed for his suffering.

“What did you even do to annoy Mabel?” Once again Pacifica played with the pans in the kitchen frying cubed apples and bacon. The smell was delicious but the combination unusual especially when she poured them onto the same plate.

“Oh, Maple Syrup? She does not like that I’m not afraid of her… most girls are…” She answered vaguely, gesturing for him to sit at the table. He did so, but only because there was food. Even in his uncertainty he did not hesitate to eat. “You look so tired, Giddy…”

“Giddy? Really?” She just nodded, poking at her own plate. He would have thought that with how skinny she was she would want to eat more but she barely touched her plate. “Last night…someone broke into my house.”

She stopped her picking.

“Did they take anything?”

“No they, uh, actually did the dishes and did my laundry. Actually, I am missing some clothes…”

“The twins, then.” She ate only a few more forkfuls of food before abandoning her plate. “Mason is an obsessive cleaner that cannot stand filth of any sort, but Mabel has an interest in you.”

“Interest? Why? I didn’t do nothing, we just met yesterday.”

“Exactly why. You’re the new boy in town and she loves shiny new toys. You should stay away from her when possible, most don’t come out looking or feeling the same…” It was the way her voice changed that made him listen. The sing-song tune that so often followed her had promptly vanished.

“Wait… are they connected to the missing tourists you mentioned earlier? If they’re breaking into people’s houses and people are scared of them, as you say, then it would be easy to take someone away. The fact that people aren’t remembering missing people very clearly as well is suspicious.” She did not answer. It seemed as though she was waiting for him to continue. “And the reason I’m being threatened is probably because they think you’ve told me all of this. Which you have.”

“I need an ally.”

“I’m not going to be it. I just want a nice, relaxing holiday. I don’t want any of your conspiracy madness.”

Pacifica did something very odd, then. She stared at him for several moments and then… smiled. It was almost mocking in its manner; something that was very non-Pacifica. Or at least from what he had observed of the girl so far. It was unsettling to see. She rested her head in her hands and blinked once.

“I do believe that it is the twins that will give you no choice in the matter. The moment it was revealed you were related to me you became a target.”

 

Wendy was the next person to go missing. Or, rather, that was what Gideon had assumed when no one recognised the name or the description of the girl despite her being a local in the area. She was known for her gothic fashion and foul temper, as well as being related to Manly Dan who, despite seeing her picture, did not immediately recognise her.

It took several moments for him to remember and then Gideon struggled to get away from the man that demanded to know what had happened to his daughter. Manly Dan then passed out and an ambulance was called. Gideon watched them heave his heavy body with concern.

He had decided to ignore Pacifica for the time being, being in a foul mood regarding her declaration, but he could not help his curiousity in regards to the issues with memory in the town hence him choosing to investigate on his own. He knew he was digging his own grave and doing the very thing he swore he did not want to be involved in but he simply could not help himself: the temptation was too great.

So he dug his grave and kept searching for clues.

He knew the Gleeful family was involved but what he needed was evidence that could be presented to the authorities. It was all well and good having conspiracy theories but until he had solid evidence of the disappearances of individuals and of the connection between the Gleeful family and those disappearances he was only putting himself in danger.

 

“There has to be a register of the town.” Gideon crept into the library hoping to ease his headache when the idea sprung to mind, but in order to get the register he would have to break into the town hall and locate the register if it were not digitalised in which case he would also need the password.

He would need time for both, and with people disappearing as often as they did he did not know how much time he had, or if there was much time for himself. Surely someone had spoken about his snooping by now, surely someone had seen him standing nearby when Manly Dan suddenly lost consciousness.

He needed to be ahead of the game, and he needed proof.

He hated to admit it, but he needed an ally, and the only one that came to mind was Pacifica.

He could feel her waiting for him to crawl back already, and held back on seeing her for several hours, delaying the inevitable for as long as he possibly could. He read up on the town’s history and the founders who were, shockingly, the Southeasts.

Unfortunately, her family suddenly lost all of their wealth seven years ago and were now living in the shack nearest the junkyard. Further still, it was the Gleefuls that took over their mansion after having moved their Tent of Telepathy into the region a year prior.

‘So this is about more than the disappearances…’ He pondered whether the sudden loss in wealth also had something to do with the Gleeful family, or if it was just an unfortunate coincidence. Gideon did not believe in coincidences.

 

It was evening time when he had returned home.

Bud was in the living room staring at the TV screen and Gideon was not in the mood to talk to him, so he shuffled upstairs with his notes and locked his bedroom door, only relaxing when he heard the lock click.

“Thought about it?” He screamed. His notes fell out of his grip and scattered across the wooden floorboards, sliding under various bits of furniture.

Pacifica snapped on his bedside lamp, grinning at him. For once, she had dressed normally and the contrast from her usual attire made her seem only odder.

“Don’t do that, what is wrong with you?”

“I have a list. Have you thought of my proposition?” It was she that offered they work together to begin with, and he could tell by the smirk that she knew exactly what he had been doing. It was annoying, and he considered refusing out of spite.

But common sense took over before he could ruin his chances. He sighed, gathering what papers he could.

“But first a question. Are you doing this because of the missing tourists or because the Gleefuls took your home?”

She did not answer. Not for several moments. He could hear the ticking of his alarm clock in the silence, the sounds of the town muffled by the window panes. She watched him oddly, like observing an ant, before shrugging.

“The Gleefuls are like the mafia in the sense that they have a finger in each pie and are inclined to do whatever it takes to maintain their power. Whether that be rendering someone bankrupt for saying the wrong thing, making the right people disappear, or threatening a little girl it hardly matters.” It was a diplomatic answer, but not the one he was looking for.

“That didn’t answer the question.”

“Between the two options the answer is both. Now answer my question: do we have a deal?” He stared at the papers in his hands. Several news articles on the Gleefuls stared up at him with their mocking smiles and their mocking eyes.

“Yes, we have a deal.”

It was like a switch. The strange presence of Pacifica Southeast turned from unsettling and unpredictable to the strange airhead of before. A lazy smile appeared on her face as she dropped on his bed.

“I’m glad we’re friends, Giddy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

 

The next day Pacifica was still in his room sleeping by the window with her back pressed against the wall. Gideon had given her the spare blankets and an extra pillow as she refused to return home stating that her father was in a foul mood and she was not inclined to be there when the worst of his episode happened.

Bud barely acknowledged him or Pacifica with more than a shrug before getting dressed in his suit for the beginning of the day. At some point Robbie had entered the shop, taking over the cash register. From what Gideon had observed of him so far, in that he had been in his general vicinity for about two hours, he was a calm and mature man who actually paid attention to customers with a friendly smile. He also learned that Robbie was not, in fact, a teenager but five years older than him: he just had a very young face.

Melody joined soon afterwards. She was the handyman at the shack that made sure everything ran smoothly for the tourists, spending more time repairing barely functioning displays than actual machines. She was shockingly calm but said the cruellest things to herself in her calm. Gideon concluded that she was actually extremely stressed, but she refused to rest even when he offered her tea. She ran solely on fumes.

“So what were you intending to do?” Pacifica asked as she hung around the postcard stand, purposefully rearranging the post cards so they were out of order. He watched her do this with careful precision, planning each move, fingers hovering over one card before switching to another.

Calculated madness. That was Pacifica.

“We need to get the town register to have solid evidence that residents have been disappearing.”

“And do you know where the register is?”

“Town hall, I think?”

“And do you know how to get it?”

Gideon did not answer, and he heard a gentle ‘ah’ escape Pacifica.

“So that’s why you came to me?” Once again, he did not answer, leaning against the wall grumbling vaguely about how she was troublesome. “I suppose it is a good thing, then, that I just so happen to know the security at town hall and how to get in.”

“So you’ll help me?” She raised a hand. “Um, yes?”

“Do you have the register password?”

“…No.”

She stopped playing with the post cards and, for a moment, he saw the smirk of the night before. It faded as quickly as it came.

“Then we need to visit the town hall as soon as possible.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made.

The town hall at Gravity Falls was a single storey wooden building built of oak with a slate roof and painted red window sills.

‘To hide all the blood.’ Gideon’s brain provided as he passed by the rose bushes nestled under each window sill; adding a touch of pink to the otherwise dull building. A bell tower sat empty at the top, with pigeons flying in and out of the tower. Inside, the hall had polished wooden floors and magnolia walls, and behind a large wooden desk there sat a woman casually filing away at her nails.

“We’d like to see the town records.” Pacifica announced bluntly, stepping in front of Gideon before he could even open his mouth.

“Go home, Pazzy, you aren’t allowed here anymore.”

“We’d like to see the town records.” The woman let out a distinct ‘ugh’ sound before slamming her nail file on the desk.

“Do I have to call security on you again? Because I’ll do it.” Gideon then pushed in front of Pacifica and cleared his throat.

“Terribly sorry for the trouble, missus, but we were curious to know what permissions were needed to get access to the most recent town records.” The woman blinked once, twice, three times before speaking again.

“Well you’d need to have official permission from the police chief to start with, or at least another higher authority such as the mayor.” It was as though she had just become aware of Gideon’s existence, which was not entirely abnormal for him; despite his great height and figure he was very easy for most to forget.

“And how would we go about getting that permission?”

“Well you’d have to file away the paperwork…?”

“Would you happen to know where we would get this paperwork?”

“Yes, we have it right here?” Gideon smiled pleasantly as the woman took out a folder, pulling out a slide of paper. “It’ll take around a week to pass through so don’t expect much until then. A letter will come in the mail.”

“Thank you kindly, missus. Well, Pacifica, we best be on our way.”

“…Right.”

With that the duo left the building, leaving the woman utterly baffled as to what had just occurred, not because asking such questions was strange in itself but because the situation was normal when _Pacifica_ was around.

“I never thought to do things the normal way.” Pacifica grudgingly admitted once they were back on the dusty path towards Gravity Falls.

“That’s because you never thought in the box to start with. Besides, why risk getting arrested if there’s an easy way out?” Gideon folded the paper and tucked it into his hoodie pocket, shrugging to release the tension in his shoulders. “We should focus on the Tent of Telepathy and observing their tricks. If they already think that they’ve won, then they won’t change their methods.”

“Mabel is the more careless of the two and will get herself in trouble if she thinks she can pull it off, but Mason is always careful and has been paranoid his entire life. If he sees us there then he will definitely try to keep his sister in check and try to cover his own tracks…” Sitting down at the town hall steps, she leaned back to rest awkwardly against the steps behind her, the corner of one digging into the base of her skull.

She hummed a tune to herself before Gideon sat down next to her. With the sweltering heat of summer pressing down upon his neck he knew that if he did not move soon he was guaranteed to burn; something he was not looking forward to. He pulled on the hood to cover his head.

“We could always just disguise ourselves.”

“Mmm, they’d know right away. They’re probably spying on us right now actually.” As if to emphasise this point, Pacifica bolted up and pointed at a window where someone promptly shut the curtain. “The entire town is in love with the Gleeful twins that’s why they keep an eye on me, but now they’ll use it on you.”

“So being discreet is utterly in vain and it’s entirely likely that the town records will be altered by the time we get them.”

“Yup. So long as they have the town on their side they can get away with essentially anything, they need not use magic at all if I am to be honest with you.”

“Can’t work around them, can’t work through them.”

“…Why not with them?” A peacock butterfly drifted by, resting on Pacifica’s shoulder before wandering up to her ear. “We pretend we’ve given up, we become their allies. Or, rather, you do. After all, they would never believe me but they would believe that you got sick of me: after all, they know nothing about you.”

Gideon thought about it for a moment, watching the butterfly climb across Pacifica’s forehead before flying away. It was a risky concept, especially with the other twin nearby, but if they were cornered on all sides then it might be the best idea that they could have come up with. It would give him greater access to their plans, it would allow him to get closer to the victims, and he could also gain the trust of the Gleeful family; perhaps he could change their methods around, or at least slow down their attacks. And yet…

And yet common sense reminded him that if this failed he would be putting his life on the line and could very well end up like the missing people themselves, and he did not want to imagine what their fate had become. Further still, Pacifica’s warning of Mabel’s like for shiny new toys did little to ease the nerves in his stomach. He was already shy around girls, but potentially dangerous ones that could disappear him at any given moment terrified him.

And he had every right to be terrified.

“Mabel said I could call her at any time. I… I think I’ll take advantage of that.”

“Good. You work on Mabel and I’ll work around Mason.”

“How do you intend to do that?” She paused before slowly drawing her hands behind her head.

“Good charms?” They both fell into giggles.

It took Gideon three days to gather enough courage to return to the Tent of Telepathy, and it was under Pacifica’s encouragement that he stop talking to her for those three days to make it seem like they had had an argument and to have this observed by the general public.

Those three days were the loneliest Gideon had ever experienced.

He spent most of the time reading, catching up on the books he had been neglecting due to his recent obsession with the Gleeful family, making sure to hide his research under the bed and out of sight. Instead he scattered school notes on the desk under the assumption that whoever broke into his house would do it again if he were acting too suspicious.

After three days he could stand it no longer and bought his ticket to the Tent of Telepathy. The atmosphere was altogether less joyful now that he was aware of the disappearances involved in the performances.

The colour blue was suddenly not quite as homey as he wished for it to be. Gideon wandered into the tent, tucking himself stiffly into a front seat next to a young couple and their son who was bouncing in his seat; eager to see the show.

The lights turning dim only unsettled Gideon where the crowd cheered, the snap of the spotlights blinding him as the twins appeared on stage in a flurry of blue powder that spread across the stage into the front seats. He tried not to breathe it in.

“Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to tonight’s performance!”

 

Gideon could say that one could do things the legal way all he pleased, but Pacifica had an agenda and she was determined to make as much progress as she could before he dug them both into a deeper hole than they needed to be in.

Under the cover of night, whilst the town population was at the performance, Pacifica climbed onto the windowsill and used the guttering to reach the town hall roof. She climbed in next to the town hall bell, or certainly where it used to be, and tied a rope to the roof, climbing down.

Grateful for years of climbing trees to avoid people, she landed in the town hall main entrance with little effort beyond the scuffing of her shoes.

‘The doors will be alarmed. I’ll have to be careful.’ She could not afford a single slip up, making her way to the mayor’s office. She pulled out a ‘lost’ key and opened the door, letting it swing open into the lush office of heavy wood and dark reds. Perfect for a mayor, really. ‘The records will be here.’

She slipped into the mayor’s chair and began hunting for a password, taking little time as he had written it on a post-it note and stuck it to his computer. She signed in and plugged in her USB, copying the town records onto the USB.

It should not have been as simple as it had been, but in no time at all she had managed to download the entire town record and was climbing back up the town hall tower, having left the key in a bin after locking the door; that way it would be easy for them to find later on.

Her only hindrance came in the form of a pigeon nest on the edge of the tower. Without meaning to, she managed to knock it over and the nest fell down the hole before smashing onto the floor. She winced, hoping that mother nature would forgive her for it, but pressed on removing the rope and climbing back down to solid ground with her USB tucked into her pocket along with the proof she needed to document people disappearing.

If only it were so easy to connect them to the Tent of Telepathy.

‘That’s where Gideon comes in.’ She thought with a cruel grin. A moth flew into her face, causing her to splutter.

 

When the performance was over Gideon hovered at the edge of the crowd suddenly quite unsure as to what he was supposed to do. Mabel was obviously a popular individual based upon how many people were swarming her, and he did not want to confront her in such an open space with so many people to judge him, and he was not entirely certain that she would be willing to talk to him in such an environment anyhow.

Just as he considered backing out, Mabel waved to him calling his name and the crowd was forced to part for his six-foot figure.

“H-hey, Mabel…” He winced at his own stammer. “Great performance tonight.”

“I see you’re alone this time.” At this he laughed awkwardly, scratching at the back of his head.

“Yeah, Pacifica and I kind of had a falling out…” He did not go into details about the imaginary argument, and Mabel did not ask for the details, but he could see the way she lit up at his comment, suddenly full of vibrant energy as she circled him, dismissing the way the crowd looked at them.

“You know, my offer still stands. We should totally meet up some time and grab some coffee.”

“Hopefully not from Lazy Susan’s.” Even the coffee at Lazy Susan’s café managed to be greasy. Mabel only laughed; a laugh that was too loud. She patted his back, and it was strange to him how someone so small could frighten him so much.

“Oh I have the perfect place for you. Someone needs to show you around town properly, and I’ll be honoured to be your guide.”

With little to no effort on his part, he was on a date with Mabel the following afternoon. She guided him to the entrance by the arm, talking quite cheerfully about nothing at all and when he returned home he realised that the only thing he had learned about Mabel was that she was bold and that she knew the town. He did not even know how old she was.

He did not call Pacifica that night, and she did not call him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has read this so far. I hope you enjoy this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gideon makes a bad suggestion.

Gideon had been instructed to wait by the statue in the centre of town, and that was what he did. Lacking in formal attire, he did his best with the clothes he had packed with him and was thankful for the lone button-up shirt that he had packed away; even if it was plaid.

After their first date, Mabel was eager to have another and as soon as possible. He did not know how he had done it, but he had won her over in an instant; or that was what he had hoped had happened. She trotted over to him, waving as she jogged dressed in an indigo dress. He stepped away from the statue to greet her.

“Looking beautiful, Miss Mabel.” He stated once she was within hearing range. She huffed, recovering from her jog. One thing he noted was that she was not very physically active and observed that her arms and legs were quite skinny.

“Thank you so much, Giddy!” She had started to adopt Pacifica’s nickname of him within a very short amount of time and he was not sure whether it was because of mockery or a genuine like of the name. The idea of Giddy Pines brought up an image of a cartoon character, although he never said so to Mabel as she beamed at him, latching her arm around his own. “So… I was thinking of the perfect spot in the woods today!”

She did not look dressed for a trip to the woods, nor did anything about her suggest that she was an outdoors person. Last Gideon recalled, the forests around Gravity Falls were extremely dangerous, and he was fairly certain that he had almost died had it not been for Pacifica saving him before he wandered off the path.

“I know a few paths in the woods.” She added, as though reading his mind. “There’s this wonderful area where we can have a picnic, if you don’t mind the fact that I’ve set up the area.” She said sweetly. He did not see a picnic basket on her, and wondered how a picnic could already be set up in the area. He thought of her family, and then thought of magic. Both were highly possible.

Both had ominous connotations for him.

“Sure.” He responded, pretending that he was ignorant to their ways.

 

Pacifica woke late that morning to the sounds of her parents moving around the caravan. She could hear them arguing and considered leaving through the window when she heard the door slam instead. She waited for several moments before getting up; she was alone in the caravan.

With a great deal of effort, she lifted herself from the sofa and made her way towards the exit. There was no food in the fridge, as there seldom was, and she would have to find somewhere to eat again. She only had one dollar on her; not nearly enough to keep her going.

Despite this, she left with a smile on her face.

She continued through the dump, through the many piles of abandoned wastes before she reached her destination.

Cardboard covered a door in the ground. She removed the key from her necklace and unlocked the door, lifting it and turning on the fairy lights before climbing down the ladder, shutting the door, with its cardboard, above her.

The computers flickered on, but she dismissed the system, taking out the book. It was untouched. She let out a sigh of relief. She took out a pen and began to write down the names of all the missing townsfolk.

 

Gideon was, admittedly, terrified as they walked through the Douglas pines. The trees loomed above him, jagged shadows slicing viciously through the path like razors through the light. Mabel clung to him, chattering insistently about her day and her brother, and an assortment of other things which Gideon ran through his mind; processing it all as potentially useful information.

“And my brother goes on and passes out in the middle of the performance, talk about embarrassing!”

“Wait, he passed out? Is he okay?” He did not necessarily care about her twin but assumed that due to the fact that he was establishing a relationship to her it was important that he at least pretend.

“Huh?” She seemed surprised by his question or, rather, the fact that he had been paying attention at all. “Yeah, he’s been sick his whole life. Bad genetics, I guess. I got lucky.”

He thought of her fragile frame and her brother’s weak health and thought them both incredibly useful when it came to taking advantage of the family.

“Anyway! We’re here now!”

He had feared that it would be the end for him but, as Mabel had stated, they stood in a large opening in the forest where several park benches sat comfortably painted blue against a backdrop of green. Strangely enough, the one that was decorated with a checkered sheet was rainbow in colour, and he wondered if Mabel had chosen that one specifically or if it was given to her.

He sat opposite her as she opened up the picnic basket, bringing out plate and an assortment of sandwiches. She took out a flask and poured him a cup of tea with a smile on her face.

“Here you go!”

“Oh, thank you.” Her eyes gleamed with delight as he took a sip.

“So… tell me a bit about yourself.”

 

Pacifica left the room with her single dollar and went in pursuit of breakfast. There was a reason she was so hungry all the time and allowed Gideon to pay for her meals. With him gone she was back to her usual hunger, and all she could do was obsess over how hungry she truly was.

“A troublesome thing, I shant deny.” Came a familiar voice. A peacock butterfly landed on Pacifica’s shoulder though she did not react to it, turning her head to acknowledge one of the few people willing to speak to her.

She had never learned the woman’s name, although she was certain that she was not from Gravity Falls itself, which was likely why she had chosen to speak to her. The woman had curly blonde hair and eyes that were pale in colour. She thought, when she first met the woman, that her eyes should have belonged to a cat.

“What is troublesome…?”

“That the Gleeful girl is genuine in her pursuit of Gideon. She tends to get obsessive, from what I have heard.” She nodded in agreement as she settled into Lazy Susan’s restaurant. She did not like the food in the restaurant, but it was cheap, and she could afford it, ordering pancakes and a coffee to keep her going. The woman was ignored, as she often was, but left her money on the table so Pacifica could order more if the desire settled in.

“I would have thought it a good thing since it will keep her distracted.” The woman giggled.

“On the contrary, I think it means we’re due a new puppet.”

“Gideon will fight.”

“They all do.”

The plate was set in front of Pacifica. Wendy gave her a strange glance, looking at the space that the woman held. She opened her mouth to say something, before closing it and continuing on her way.

“So, what do you intend to do?” The woman questioned, leaning forward in her seat and resting her elbows on the table.

“That…” She paused. What did she intend to do?

 

The meal was pleasant enough and Gideon soon found himself engaged in conversation with Mabel. Due to her naturally talkative nature, it was easy to speak to her and even in his silence she was able to keep the conversation going and he was grateful for this. He was embarrassed to admit that he was beginning to enjoy her company, reminding himself over and over again that he was talking to her to help Pacifica, that it was necessary for the safety of the town.

“And your father just let that happen?” He had confessed to the person that had broken into his house, pretending that he did not know that it was likely them that had broken in, and Mabel had fallen into immediate sympathy for the incident.

“Yeah, he wasn’t home.” He shrugged, dismissive of the matter.

“He isn’t home very much, is he?” He pretended that he had said as much to Mabel even though he did not, nodding slightly. She took his hand, holding on tightly. “I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. He was never around much anyway.” It stung, and he hated to admit to anything resembling hurt around a potential enemy.

“Still, he should at least be concerned about his only son experiencing such strange things. Why, it’s my opinion that you should be in a safer home.”

“What, like yours?” He said with a smile. She paused, and then a grin took hold of her face.

“That sounds like a brilliant idea!” He did not expect her to settle into the idea so quickly. “Yes, we have plenty of spare rooms about the house I’m sure Great Uncle Stanley wouldn’t mind in the slightest. Especially because it’s you!”

“Because it’s me?” She did not explain what she meant by the matter, wrapping his hand in her other hand, positively drawn into the idea. He wondered whether he made the right decision in suggesting it; joking or otherwise.

 

Pacifica finished her meal with a satisfied sigh, resting her hands on her stomach. She gave Wendy her money and left, dragging her feet. She saw Mabel and Gideon leave the forest and wondered, for a moment, if she should follow after them.

The butterfly that had settled on her shoulder drifted away. The woman had left after a short time with Pacifica, stating that she had **time to kill** with a strange smile upon her face before slipping away. Pacifica did not see where she had vanished to despite her leaning to watch her leave through the window. She had turned a corner and was out of Pacifica’s sight for good.

She thought about what she intended to do next, dragging her foot in front of her and kicking a nearby rock. The rock bounced against a window. Instincts told her that the best thing to do would be to follow them.

She waited for a moment, before doing just that.

They were walking towards the mansion.

 

The path towards the mansion was winding and twisted, leading up a sharp cliffside where, on one side, the lake lurked underneath. A gentle fog had settled over the lake, as it so often did, and made the cliff seem all the more frightful to him. He did not stare at the edge very long, keeping close to Mabel who only giggled and held him closer.

Black cast-iron gates kept the mansion separate from the rest of the town, the grey granite walls of the mansion glistening with the recent rain. The mansion stood on the very edge of the cliff and Gideon feared that it was one storm away from falling into the lake.

‘Surely their magic keeps it in place.’ He thought morbidly, praying that it was the case. He gulped and waited for the gates to open. Mabel spoke into the intercom.

“Hey, Fiddleford! It’s Mabel!” She called.

There was static before the gates creaked open. It was an ominous feeling that followed soon afterwards, as though the air itself shifted. He held his breath, locked in position. Mabel skipped forward, confused when he did not follow. She tugged at his arm.

“Come on! I’ll show you to your room!” He was beginning to become aware of how terrible a mistake he had made. Still, he moved forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, hasn't it?  
> A guest appearance from the Witch of Mirages as well!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble ensues.

Pacifica had always thought the design of the mansion to be too clean. Grey granite and white marble which shunned filth like any beggar on the street, it was too polished and too refined for her liking, which she mused as she climbed over the cast iron gates. She had broken into the gardens many times, although she had never infiltrated beyond that area knowing that anything else would get her into trouble she was not certain she could get herself out of.

‘The things I do for family.’ She thought as she scurried across the grass, a snake in her own right amongst great batches of green, interrupted by trees and statues that she was certain looked familiar to her, which did little to ease her disturbed mind.

When she got to the window she first tested to see if it was unlocked. It never was and she resorted to her glass cutter, cutting into the corner, tapping it loose before reaching her hand inside and unlocking the window.

The pressure in the mansion was different from the gardens. It felt unsettled and wicked, like a shark waiting in the water. She did not want to stay long.

 

Gideon quickly decided he did not like the house. It was far too cold, both physically and in the atmosphere of the place. All of the decorations were blue ranging from sky blue to navy, with the very floor they stood on glistening like the ocean underneath them. He could see his reflection as clear as day in it, and could see the fear in his eyes.

Mabel seemed entirely ignorant to his discomfort and pulled him forward with a determined enthusiasm that seemed far too inappropriate for the situation. He was in the snake pit, he was sure, and he had to tread very carefully if he wished to escape alive.

He memorised the route. Two lefts down long, dimly-lit corridors, before passing through a large dining room then the next right and the third door on the right, in front of the window which had a vase full of roses inside. Purple roses, he noted, with a slight frown as Mabel took the keys from her skirt pocket, undoing the lock on the room.

“Here!”

The room was enormous, almost the same size as the entire lower floor of the shack. Mabel walked in first, smoothing the silk blue bed sheets before sitting on them and crossing her legs.

“Pretty neat, huh?” She seemed to be begging for his answer, her foot tapping nervously as he delayed his answer, looking around.

A plush Persian rug covered the blue carpet, a four-poster bed taking up most of the space. A vanity desk sat directly opposite the bed with a mirror staring down at the bed, an assortment of old perfumes and hair products sitting on the desk. He pulled out the chair and tucked it back in. There was a bookcase next to the window filled with books and next to this was an arm chair of Russian blue and silver.

“Well?” She almost demanded, impatient at his silence.

“It’s perfect.” He said with a smile and, finally, she beamed back. Gideon noticed she had braces. Like her eyes, which often changed colour, he had not noticed until that moment. Then, right before his eyes, they flickered out of existence. He tried not to frown, knowing she would spot it right away. “Thank you, Mabel, this is very kind of you.”

“Oh, pft! Anything for you, Gideon!” She practically danced with delight as she stood up. “Now let’s introduce you to Great Uncle Stanley.”

 

It did not take Pacifica long to catch up to the duo. She was a professional when it came to following Mabel and could identify the click of her heels anywhere, keeping to the shadows as she followed them out of the room. Mabel was entirely caught up in her own little world and that worked to Pacifica’s benefit.

‘But now that you have them how are you going to get Gideon out of here?’ She thought to herself, running a hand through her wavy blonde hair. She should have tied it back, it made her stand out in such a dark and morbid world.

Gideon could not see it, or if he could he was very good at ignoring it, but Pacifica could see how the shadows in the mansion were far denser than those outside of it. As though the mansion itself was alive and closing in on itself. A smile with too many teeth.

‘Don’t think about the atmosphere.’ She stopped following them, and retreated to the room. She would wait until they returned and help him to escape once Mabel let him rest.

 

The journey towards the office was a dreaded one. Gideon knew next to nothing about Great Uncle Stanley beyond the fact that he ran the Telepathy Tent and he rarely left except for performances. He was an enigma and that meant he was dangerous.

Mabel knocked on the door and straightened up. A serious expression was on her face, and Gideon noticed a distinct chill coming from her. She released her grip on him as a gruff voice called out:

“Come in.” There was a brief smile on her face before she opened the door.

The office was even colder than the rest of the mansion. Gideon could practically see his breath and wish that he had brought another layer of clothes, loathing the chill that took a hold of him and how it made him seem almost cowardly.

Great Uncle Stanley was a man with a broad face and broad shoulders, dressed in the colours of the mansion with a noticeably vibrant sapphire gem being attached to his collar. A great fur coat had been left on the chair. At least Gideon assumed it was a coat, he could not see any arm holes.

“Great Uncle Stanford.” Gideon blinked. Did she not say they would be meeting Stanley? He hid his confusion quickly. “This is Gideon Pines.”

“Ah, yes, our local troublemaker’s cousin.” Mabel seemed to bristle. Stanford continued to write, barely lifting his head. The penmanship, from what Gideon could see, was remarkable, and there were many handwritten documents on his desk. There were also many illustrations that were bizarre to him. Finally, Stanford set the pen down and lifted his head. “So, you are the latest obsession.”

The doors shut behind them, and Gideon was left to the snakes.

 

Somebody entered the room and Pacifica quickly ducked under the bed. The quilts hid her from view and she slowed her breathing. If she panicked her breathing would give her away. She listened to the muffled footsteps come closer and closer towards her. She did not move a muscle.

“There’s no need to hide. Why don’t you come on out?” She did not. She stayed perfectly still and perfectly calm. She had the glass cutter if the situation called for it, its weight in her pocket a calm reminder that she could still fight. “I know you’re in here, I saw the broken glass.”

She knew the voice all too well. A person that would be the death of her if she gave herself away. She only moved when the bedsheets were lifted up.

Mason knelt down and stared at the empty space where she had been. She held on tightly to the edges of the bed, held up by sheer core strength which was already failing her as her arms shook violently. He sniffed and dropped the sheet. Slowly, Pacifica dropped her legs then her arms to the ground.

Still, she did not hear him leave. Instead, he walked towards the opposite side of the room and Pacifica could hear him creak down in the seat.

“I know it’s you, Pacifica.” Before she could fight against it, she was pulled out from under the bed, an invisible hand grabbing at her ankle. She let out a single yelp as she was pulled towards Mason who quickly snatched her by the chin. “Now, what are we going to do with you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your comments so far they really inspire me!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mistakes are made

Gideon was not often one to be conned, his paranoia being his sole saviour in most situations and certainly one of his more notable traits beyond his constant need to be polite, so when he saw the smirk on Mabel’s face he knew, then, just how she had played him. Playing a violin was too difficult, he was played like a cheap kazoo.

He was not nearly as good at hiding his emotions as he would like to be, based solely on the giggle that escaped Mabel’s lips. He must have been a hilarious sight to her:

“You don’t seriously think I’d fall deeply in love with you after just a couple of days? Save your breath.” Her tone was haughty, mocking him for thinking, even for a moment, that he was the one playing her.

Stanford leaned forward in his seat.

“Come closer.” Gideon remained exactly where he was. With the slightest movement of Stanford’s finger, Gideon was pulled by an invisible force towards the desk, his knees striking the edge of the desk with an unpleasant cracking. Stanford stood up and took him by the chin, turning his head from left to right.

Then the foulest grin appeared on his face.

“Now we’ll get you to speak.”

 

Pacifica, even in her dazed state, was a fighter and refused to bend to Mason’s threats, keeping her mouth firmly shut as she looked for an escape route. She knew she should not have entered, that she should have left Gideon to his own devices. Should have let him perish, her mind cursed her as she glared at Mason.

Physically, he was significantly weaker than her and stood much shorter as well as much skinnier. Mentally, he was also weaker, but with magic, which she certainly did not have, she was certain to fail if she lunged at him.

“Let me go.” She stated.

“Why would I do that?”

“I’ll cough on you.” This is how their conversations usually ended, with a jab at his health. She knew they would work as well, he cringed away from sickness because anything could be his end if he was careless enough. “Let me go.”

“I cannot let you do that, Pacifica.” She ducked under an oncoming fire and ran through the bedroom door. She could hear him sigh as she ran. He would not run after her; he did not need to. She was in his territory for once.

 

“I really have nothing to say.” Gideon announced in a level tone, forcing away his fright and uncertainty. There was no time for panic, no time for fear, though his entire body trembled despite his wishes. He just wanted to go home and pretend that none of this happened.

“Pacifica sent you here, did she not?” Stanford enquired, his grip firm. Gideon did not answer, Stanford reached the conclusion on his own. “Troublesome child… and you like her?” He offered to Mabel who merely shrugged:

“She’ll make a pretty doll.” Gideon did not want to imagine the sorts of dolls that Mabel collected. Again, Stanford turned Gideon’s head, snatching a white strand of hair and twirling it between his fingers; the hair strand bounced back into place.

“Seems you’ve got your own reasons for being involved beyond compliance towards that nuisance of a girl.” Gideon kept his mouth shut. He could not, and would not, let them know that he knew about the disappearances. “Very well, we’ll have to force the information out of you.”

 

Pacifica slowed down to a trot, looking for something that could be used as a weapon. It did not take her long, and she thought it strange, that a fire extinguisher be found at the mansion. She thought surely with all their magic they would not need such things, she certainly failed to find basics such as ladders in the area: the gardener having said more than once that they had to use rope to climb places.

She took it firmly in both hands and freed it from the wall, marching down the corridors armed with her newly found weapon. It did not take her long to trace voices to a single room in the mansion. A name was written on a gold sign on the door:

“Stanford Gleeful.” He hardly left the mansion, but when he did it was a huge event in the town.

 

“That must be your brother with the girl.” Stanford stated as there was a knocking on the door. “Come in!” He ordered.

A feeling of dread took hold on Gideon as this happened. That Pacifica, the ever elusive and nightmarish girl, could be captured as easily as him. That he was somehow to blame for her capture. He feared that she had come after him and that was why she was here now, all because of his clumsy mistake. Because he was naïve and misread the situation they were both in severe danger.

The door opened.

White foam went everywhere.

Stanford let him go and somebody else grabbed him.

“Run.” The familiar voice said as they ran out of the office. Straight through the window they crashed through, shards of glass scattering everywhere. They fell to the ground and struck the hedge below. Gideon was certain of it now, he had broken a limb.

Pacifica gave him no time to process this concept, pulling on his uninjured arm.

“Don’t stop until we can no longer see the mansion gates.”

 

They ran for twenty minutes straight; the longest Gideon had run in his life. His throat was aching, his legs were aching, and his arm was screaming and yet he ran further still until they reached the shack; a fragile sanctuary.

He was sat on the creaky kitchen chair which groaned under his weight. His father was nowhere to be seen, so Pacifica tended to his injuries. His arm was slowly turning black was the battering he had taken; it was definitely broken.

“We’ll have to call an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital.” The nearest hospital was twenty miles away; far away from this dreaded town and all of its deranged inhabitants. “What will you tell them?”

“That my psycho cousin threw me out a window.” He spat back. He was in a foul mood and nothing would push him out of it; his arm was broken, he had been conned, and the only thing Pacifica cared about was what he was going to tell the people who were going to fix his arm.

“That’s fair.” She said without a second thought, entirely dismissive in her nature.

“That’s all you have to say? Nothing else?”

“Sorry for throwing you out a window.” She did not give excuses. She did not elaborate, she said it as it was, and Gideon had nothing to throw his anger at, so he vented.

“I can’t believe I fell for such a stupid trick! It was obvious she was playing me, and she played me like a kazoo. I walked right in there and got myself trapped! I almost died!” Pacifica said nothing as she cleaned the blood off his knees. “I’m done with all this. You’re on your own from now on.”

Pacifica smiled.

“I’ve been alone for a long time.”

 

His father was fuming when he heard that Gideon had to be taken to the hospital, grumbling about how much it would cost the entire journey while Gideon cradled his arm. Gideon had nothing to say to the man, and he had nothing to say back, the frown telling the entire story for him.

‘You’re a burden.’ It said in capital letters, and Gideon could not help but agree with it, wishing there was a window for him to stare out of just so he could avoid the presence of his father. Not that he considered him such for a long time.

Gideon, truthfully, had never been to a hospital before so did not know what to expect when he was taken to one. He was told of the unpleasant smell of vomit mixed with disinfectant, of the white walls and polished floors, of green scrubs and old magazines.

The magazines were recent, the scrubs were blue, the floors were blue, the walls were blue, and the smell was lemon. He did not get to experience much of it as he was quickly taken away from the crowds to have his arm checked.

A spiral break meant both bones in his arm were broken a ‘remarkable’ snap was what the doctor had said before he was taken to surgery. What was remarkable was that it was the only major injury he had received, he imagined his day would have been far worse had Pacifica not entered the office at that moment.

But it did not mean he forgave her.

 

Pacifica did not sleep that night. She kept away from her parent’s trailer and stayed in her own sanctuary of computers and wires, carved runes and silks hanging from the ceiling above her, glinting in the screen’s light.

She had tried to get through the town register but found that she did not have the heart for it. She continued to stare up at the ceiling with her hands sitting on her stomach thinking about what she was feeling. It was not betrayal because she knew the moment that Gideon entered that house that he would never want to listen to her plans again, but it was not hurt either.

It was an uncomfortable tingling in her stomach that made it gurgle in protest. She thought it to be hunger, at first, but even after eating the sensation never went away.

‘Guilt.’ Her mind finally offered. ‘You’re feeling guilt.’

‘I suppose I am.’ She turned over to her side, staring dully at her work space. It truly was a mess, as chaotic as her mind and just as lost. She had long since accepted that Gideon would be involved in danger, and she would be the trigger for that danger, but she did not expect the feelings that came with it.

Her chest began to ache.

“Oh dear, it seems the illusions of this world have finally shattered for you.” She shot up like a bullet and looked around.

The world seemed transparent then. The colours too bright, almost neon, and blurring into each other. She found the source of the voice sitting in her office chair. A man with long silver hair and sharp cat’s eyes sat there spinning in circles. He was oddly dressed and entirely out of place.

“Who are you?”

“I control dreams.” He said with pride, and just as she blinked he was in front of her snatching her by the chin. “You have quite a firm dream in mind, do you not?”

“Yes.” She said. “Bring down the Gleeful family.”

He chuckled, and Pacifica could not help but feel it to be an unpleasant sensation not for the laugh itself but for what it implied.

“Perhaps you’d like some help in that goal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading so far! The God of Dreams makes an appearance in City of Masks as well! The ultimate troll!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Each separate for their own case.

Gideon found himself stagnant, lying in his bed completely lacking the motivation to do much of anything. He stared up at the wooden ceiling in the morning and in the afternoon, and only came downstairs for food which was steadily decreasing in gaining his interest.

He would not admit to it out loud, but he had partly enjoyed being with Pacifica in solving the mystery of Gravity Falls. Not so much the part where his life was in danger, but the part where his brain was given a puzzle to solve. It kept him entertained in an otherwise dull town.

He let out a sigh and dragged himself upwards.

‘What do I do?’ He opened up his laptop and began to search through the Gravity Falls newspaper. He was surprised such a small town had their own newspaper, and one that was accessible online, but it allowed him to look back on the history of the town and that was his intentions.

The Gleeful family was almost everywhere, they were the wealthy celebrities of the town and the constant source of gossip, although he seldom found news articles on their faults. They donated to various charities, had hundreds of parties, and were always in support of the town. There seemed to be no fault found with them.

Four years back he found the article he was looking for.

June 14th 2015 there had been a tragic accident that had taken the lives of two members of the Gleeful family, leaving the children without immediate family. He looked at the picture and saw the faces of the parents who looked remarkably similar to that of Mason and Mabel Gleeful.

He investigated further, tracing the names across the online world. There was an entire conspiracy about the car accident being an assassination with many articles outside the Gravity Falls newspaper stating that there had been damage to the braking system which looked intentionally, and that the parents had been eager to escape Gravity Falls with their children when the accident happened.

‘But why were they wanting to leave Gravity Falls?’ It only brought more questions, and he searched further still.

The Gleefuls may have been able to keep gossip out of their personal newspapers, but there was still one newspaper company that spoke against the family. They went out of business two years ago, but the archive still existed. He traced the names of the various writers, writing down their names in a notepad. He just needed to find these people and perhaps he would find out just what the Gleeful parents were running from.

 

That afternoon, Pacifica devoted herself to writing down every name that was in the register that was missing from the town. Every person that had grown suspicious of the Gleefuls or had gotten in their way. Even the very basics of simply annoying one twin or another. She had spoken to many of the people before they disappeared and wondered if she was partly to blame for their disappearance; perhaps they saw her as more of a threat than they let on.

Two hours passed before she had gotten through every name, scanning it with a calculating eye before closing the register. The thing she would have to do now was return the register to the town hall without raising suspicions. She knew it had already been marked as missing and that security had been increased as a result of this.

‘Simple is better.’ She thought to herself as she tucked the book into her satchel, getting up.

The sunlight was almost blinding, having spent the entire night in the bunker outside her home. Her parents had not noticed her absence, or perhaps they did not care, and as a result she was free to leave as she saw fit.

Pacifica wandered about the town in her carefree manner, making sure to put an extra swing in her step as she went about her dainty adventure, concealing her crimes with ease as she came closer to the town hall.

It was then that she collided with a figure. She stumbled, and so did the figure.

Mason brushed himself off with clear frustration on his face, disliking the dirt or dust that he thought was on her. He offered a gloved hand to her, gesturing for her to follow him. With so many townsfolk watching it was a bold move on his part, knowing how disliked she was, but she was just as bold in merely tilting her head and smiling innocently at him before walking past.

She knew that if she took that hand she would have been cursed, ignoring the way his shoulders rose as she walked past him.

 

Gideon came across a shack he initially thought to be abandoned in the forest just slightly off from the path, not far enough that he had to fear the creatures that lurked in the woods and came to knock on the door. Nobody answered, and he opened the beaten red door, the door creaking as it pushed into a rugged corridor, a staircase to his left side.

“Hello? Anyone here?” Nobody responded, and he stepped inside after a moment of contemplation. The corridor was dreary with a thick layer of dust lining everything he touched, filling the air and his lungs. He coughed loudly, shutting the door behind him. “I’m Gideon Pines, I’m investigating the Gleefuls?”

When the silence continued, he made his way through the house. There was nothing unusual about the lower floor, so he made his way upstairs, the stairs creaking under his weight. He had to dip down to fit under the door frame at the top of the stairs.

It looked like a criminal investigator’s office. The walls were lined with newspaper articles and red thread pinning certain things together. There were articles that Gideon had not even seen before with conspiracies of embezzlement in the Gleeful family, of mysterious deaths surrounding the family and, more importantly, of how they earned their current mansion.

‘I’ll be damned, Paz was telling the truth.’ Notes were written around one article, post it notes telling of how Pacifica’s father had initially been a trading partner of the Gleeful family and when the business went down the Gleefuls replaced their old mansion with the current, taking the land from the old trading partner. ‘Pacifica remembers this happening, so it must only be a few years old.’

He checked the date. Pacifica would have been six years old when it happened, so the house would have belonged to the Gleefuls before Mabel and Mason moved in. Before then, they lived in another mansion, but where?

He followed the thread to a mansion just outside of Gravity Falls. He wrote down the address when he heard a creaking behind him.

“Don’t move.” Gideon slowly raised his uninjured arm in surrender.

“Are you Shandra Jimenez?”

 

Pacifica was pinned the moment she turned the corner. She did not flinch, though she wanted to. She knew it to be magic that pinned her, her rune covered spoon being inefficient against magic that was not intended to harm. She breathed in slowly, making note of the sky blue glow around her as Mason made his way towards her.

“Perhaps I did not make myself clear earlier.” He came close, leaning in and pulling out the town register, flicking through it for a moment. His blue eyes scanned the first couple of pages before he snapped it shut. “You know, you’re not making my life any easier.”

“I’m not sorry.” She responded as he sighed, purposefully dramatic.

“Whatever will I do with you, Pacifica?”

“Let me go?” He shook his head with a faint chuckle. He looked bored, staring dimly at the glimmer of light which came from the town centre. “They’ll notice if we’re alone together, and then your reputation will start to go downhill.”

“They will neither notice nor care for such things. And that’s besides the point.” He went into his pocket and pulled out a letter, handing it to her. “I have a deal for you, if you’re willing to listen.”

She said nothing, waiting for him to continue on his own. Seconds ticked by, the bustle of the town faint in the background. A monarch butterfly fluttered by, pausing to sit on her shoulder before moving away.

“You are to come to the ball in a week’s time with your cousin Gideon. In turn, I will give you information on how to bring down my great uncle.”

“And why would you do that?” He raised a brow, and drew a gloved hand over her chin, the touch delicate but telling her things she did not want to think about.

“Because he killed my parents.”

 

“How did you find me?” Shandra demanded, her rifle pointed at Gideon’s chest. He turned slowly to speak to her, trying not to let the fear show on his face.

“You were one of the reporters that investigated the issue of the Gleeful twins and their parents’ deaths. I wanted to learn more, so I looked for your old address amongst your co-workers. Toby told me.” She cursed, clicking her tongue.

“Of course, it was bloody Toby, that man is as dim-witted as they get.” She grumbled to herself for a moment. “And you’re here to investigate the Gleefuls? How do I know you aren’t a spy for them?”

“Firstly, because they’re the ones that broke my arm.” Technically it was Pacifica that broke his arm, but it was because of the Gleefuls that it happened. “And secondly, my name is Gideon Pines. I’m Pacifica Southeast’s cousin.”

Her gun lowered for a moment, then it was pointed at his chest once more.

“Pacifica I can trust, but I saw you with Mabel earlier.”

“Yeah and look at what she did. What can I do to make you trust me?” She said nothing, her brows furrowed as she thought.

“Why are you after the Gleefuls?”

“Because I don’t like how many people are going missing.”

“Did Pacifica tell you that, or did you learn it on your own?”

“Pacifica told me and then we learned on our own. Look, can you take the gun away?” Shandra eventually lowered the gun, and set it down on the door frame, crossing her arms.

Everything about her radiated anxiety, aged with years of uncertainty and fear her shoulders were always tense and her dark eyes flitted across the scenery as though anticipating any sort of attack.

“Well I know you have no malice in you because if you came with the intentions of doing harm the beasts would have killed you in an instant?” He opened his mouth to ask what the beasts were, when he recalled what Pacifica had said about monsters lurking in the forest. So they were drawn to malice? “Want some tea?”

“That’ll be grand.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. I've now updated Life Below Stairs as well if you want to see how the Gleefuls are seen through the servants eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suspicions rise

Shandra Jimenez was an unusual woman with many unusual ticks. She tapped her foot obsessively when she could not tap her fingers, was always clenching her fists, and her eyes never lingered in one place too long, dark eyes shifting from one corner of the room to the next in an obsessively paranoid manner. Gideon wondered whether it was truly paranoia if she was actually being hunted, or he assumed she was being hunted considering the knowledge she had.

“I was one of the first on the crime scene.” She stated simply, a dulled look on her face. If Gideon could describe it, he would describe it as pained. “I knew the Gleefuls well enough back then, the twins’ parents were well liked by the community, and they were known for their giving manner.”

It had been a hot summer afternoon; a heat wave having struck the small town of Gravity Falls with no end in sight. Shandra had seen the parents packing their bags and rush into the car and thought it incredibly unusual at the time for the simple fact that they had done it in such a rush, essentially throwing everything into the car. Had she known the family more, perhaps she would have asked what the hurry was, but at the time she had dismissed it as a last-minute trip.

It was not until she had long since passed them by that she realised that the Gleefuls never went on individual trips; if they went on holiday they all went together great uncles included and yet it was only the parents and the twins that were involved in this trip.

“Hurry up, we need to go now, they’ll know soon!” Those were the words she remembered as the children were buckled into the back of the car, asking questions and looking tired, complaining about being hungry or sleeping as the parents rushed into the front.

She remembered that as she came across the crime scene not too far away that afternoon, the brakes having failed, and their father having crashed into a tree. She remembered the branch through his face, and their mother’s final gasp as they arrived at the scene, no ambulance able to revive her. She remembered the wide eyes and gaping mouths of the twins as they stared on, still too young to process what had happened when one of the uncles, she believed Stanford Gleeful, finally came to pick them up. She remembered Mason trying to squirm away, screaming about his mother as he was pulled away.

 

Pacifica was aware of the parents’ death, having known the Gleefuls before the tragedy. She did not place her hatred in the twins at the time, focusing her dislike on Stanford Gleeful who her father often complained about before he was taken over by the alcohol. Back when he was halfway decent.

She remembered that for two weeks the twins were not seen at school, and she remembered she would often climb into the house to leave offerings for them, knowing, whilst not yet fully understanding, that the death of a loved one was very painful and that somebody needed all the love they could get in those moments. So, she left flowers she collected, and she left food and, when she could, she would visit.

She had noticed the change immediately. The twins were normal before then, they would even interact with her without judgement. They were cheerful, goofy, and just like any other child. However, once the two weeks were up and they returned to school they were… different. As though they had put on a new mask and become entirely different people. More importantly, they began to direct their cruelty towards her. She wondered if it was because of grief, as her mother used to say that sad people often attacked others with their sadness, and tolerated it, but as the years went by she concluded that they were simply different people and had forgotten about her kindness towards them.

The fact that Mason had declared Stanford his parents’ killer brought a new light to the situation. What did it mean, she wondered, that he had told her? What was he hoping to gain from the situation by telling her beyond her doubt? Was he hoping that, by bringing her to the ball, he would finally get her in his clutches and be rid of her?

Still, she could not deny her curiousity, and cursed herself for the fact that she knew she would be going regardless of the danger. It was the perfect opportunity to discover more about the mansion and the people Stanford Gleeful associated with, and just as perfect a chance for her to learn more about the twins themselves. However, she could not go unarmed, and she had to convince Gideon that she had a good enough plan to keep him safe this time.

‘I cannot fail.’

 

There was a distant look in Shandra’s eyes as she finished her story, a vague disturbance that Gideon was not willing to shake off. Then, she blinked, and all attention was back on him. He visibly stilled and waited for her to continue.

“Having seen what I saw that afternoon, I decided to investigate further. I found out that the mother, Lydia, had taken out a large sum of money from their shared account that day; larger than what would be needed for a standard holiday. In fact, I would say, based on the sum, it was enough to leave the country and buy a new house while they were at it.”

She took out a folder and inside were a number of scraps of paper. Inside was a note that Shandra quickly tapped.

“It was not the first time such a large sum of money had been taken out either. Their father, Fredrick, had also taken out $4000000 the week before and had done nothing with it. When asked about why both parents had taken out so much money, Stanley had said he had no idea where the money had gone and that he had never seen it.”

She sipped her tea, the tea having long since gone cold and not tasting particularly pleasant to begin with. Gideon dared not touch his, far too focused on the facts that Shandra was giving.

“This money, I later discovered, had been transferred to a different account that only the twins would be given access to following the deaths of their parents after the age of sixteen. Do you know how old the twins are right now?”

“Um…”

“They turn sixteen this summer.” She sighed. “At first, I thought it was a ploy to get the money to the twins quicker, and thus under the control of the great uncles faster however…”

“However…”

“That’s not all there is.”

 

Pacifica collided with an unfamiliar figure, stumbling slightly although not falling. The other did not so much as budge, standing ridged before her. Pacifica thought to herself that it might be a good idea to look away from the sky when she was walking, but also thought that with her performance it was a perfectly acceptable thing for her to do; wandering into people.

“Miss Southeast?” The other figure cleared their throat and finally Pacifica glanced down. She recognised the person immediately as the maid, or one of the maids, of the Gleeful family. With long auburn hair pinned back into a low bun, and large round glasses, she was still in uniform, so Pacifica knew that it was not an accidental collision; she was here with a purpose.

“Mm?” She asked sweetly, batting her pretty blue eyes. She briefly glanced down at the package the older woman was carrying and thought it an unusual thing before glancing back up.

“I have a gift for you, and for Mr Pines, from the twins. Unfortunately, they could not give you the gifts themselves as they have a performance to attend to.” Pacifica merely stared at the paper brown bag, watching it for movement. Although she had been invited to the ball, she was still incredibly suspicious towards anything that was given to her by the Gleefuls and found herself doubting the goodness of the contents inside.

“I cannot.” She stated, after a moment pause.

“I can assure you there is nothing dangerous inside, Miss Southeast. I have checked the contents myself.”

“Yes, well you are their maid are you not?” A slight twitch of the brow.

“It is merely a suit and dress for the ball. Please, take it, I need to return to my duties.”

“I cannot.” The woman, almost frustrated, set the bag on the ground in front of Pacifica and, with a polite bow, left. Pacifica did not take the bag with her.

 

“Turns out that there was an argument overheard two weeks prior to the accident between Stanford Gleeful and Fredrick regarding the education of the twins. Fredrick stated that Stanford was smothering the twins and that he was being too demanding with their time, threatening to take them away from secondary education at the local high school.” She stated after a moment.

“Hardly a reason to kill them.”

“It wasn’t the only thing they argued about. They were talking about arranged marriages with other families and the inheritance. Stanford supposedly got quite aggressive when Fredrick assured him that the twins would marry out of love not duty. He took it as a person offense.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because arranged marriages were traditional. His own wife was an arranged marriage.”

“Didn’t know he had a wife.” He was, truthfully, very surprised. He had never seen Stanford with a woman before, and wondered where she could possibly be in the mansion.

“She died in childbirth some time ago. If you go into the mansion, in the main garden, there’s a memorial for her. The whole town mourned when she died. The child is rumoured to be one of the servants working there, Stanford too angry to acknowledge them as his own child.”

“Damn, any idea who?”

“The cook. But that’s besides the point. After the argument, Fredrick threatened to leave the family altogether. Stanford said he’d never live to see the day.”

“And he never did.”

“And he never did.” Shandra repeated. Gideon rested his knuckles against his chin, deep in thought. There were too many coincidences regarding the topic, and it was certainly suspicious how the situation was beginning to unfold. He needed to tell Pacifica.

“Have you told anyone else this?”

“Just one other person.”

“Who?”

“Mason Gleeful.”

 

When Pacifica returned to her family’s caravan, she found the paper bag waiting for her on her bed. Certain that it was booby trapped in some way, she took one of her many charms and waved it over the bag hoping to disarm it in some way. Nothing happened and she slowly, ever so slowly, pulled the material out of the bag.

A silk, sea green dress pooled out, dropping down to her sandals in a wave of beautiful material. She dared not check the price tag. Inside were matching shoes embedded with various gems. Her father, if he ever saw it, would immediately sell them for his fix. She folded the dress over her arm and shoved it back into the bag, carrying it outside her tiny home as she took out her phone.

She needed to make a call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for reading so far. Hopefully the next installment of "Life Below Stairs" will follow soon after.


End file.
